


The Kids That I Once Knew

by AngelWithAStory



Series: Author’s Favourites [8]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Blood, Blood and Injury, Childhood Friends, Crimes & Criminals, Depression, Fluff and Angst, Male-Female Friendship, Multi, Mute Neopolitan, New Family, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Pre-Series, Time Skips, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-19
Updated: 2016-05-18
Packaged: 2018-05-21 14:05:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6054394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelWithAStory/pseuds/AngelWithAStory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Tell me everything that happened</i>
  <br/>
  <i>Tell me everything you saw</i>
</p><p> </p><p>A series of one-shots following some of the elders of the series through all their loss and laughter</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. They Had Lights Inside Their Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter focuses on team STRQ because I have had a lot of emotions regarding these characters since the finale. Kind of Taiyang-centric, to be honest but it just kind of happened while I was writing it.
> 
> Also, I took a few liberties while writing Summer Rose especially, because we know next to nothing about her, and also slipped in a few personal headcanons just cause.

“Summer, get down from there.” Taiyang called up to a figure that was currently walking across the tops of the pillars in Beacon’s courtyard. He didn't sound angry, and he had a smile on his face as the figure laughed. They had their arms out to keep their balance as they walked. A white cape gently flapped behind them from the gentle summer breeze.

“Make me, Tai.” Summer called down, looking around from her vantage point. For the trouble she might get in, the view was stunning. She could see all of Vale from up there.

“Don't make me send Qrow up there to get you!” Taiyang gently threatened. When Summer didn't seem to take him all that seriously, Taiyang just sighed and turned to watch as a crow flew down onto the ground next to him. “Some help here?” He looked back at Summer, crossing his arms over his chest.

Taiyang heard something beside him and looked back to see his friend and teammate grinning up at Summer. His hair was surprisingly ruffled as he stood there as casually as if he had always been there.

“I don't think I can help you here, buddy.” Qrow said, shrugging his shoulders. He laughed at the betrayed look on Taiyang’s face, but they both knew better than to try and force Summer down off that pillar.

Summer looked around and felt very content. Something about this city just made Summer fall in love. She always said that when she retired from being a huntress, she’d get a little house on a cliff somewhere that overlooked the town so she could look at it _all_ day.

The sun was just past the midday point in the sky and Summer pulled the edge of her hood down so it worked as shade.

Something caught Summer’s eye and she took a few steps back. Qrow noticed the action before Taiyang and gently nudged him, nodding to Summer’s figure take a running leap off the pillar. She shot forwards using her semblance so she was more parallel to the ground and skidded for a few metres on the paving stones before she stood upright and beamed at her teammates. She ran over to them and stopped short. The air washed over the two boys and a few stray flower petals rolled across the ground.

“Having fun?” Qrow asked, tucking his hands in his pocket.

“Raven’s back.” Summer said, her silver eyes wide and full of life. “And you guys promised that when Raven got back we would all go into town so come _on._ ” She reached forwards and grabbed both their wrists, pulling them in the direction of the nearby city.

Qrow laughed and pulled his hand away, batting Summer’s hood down and ruffling her hair. She let go of Taiyang to push Qrow’s hands away and undo the mess he had created of her hair.

“Qrow!” Summer frowned at both of them; Qrow for messing up her hair and Taiyang for laughing.

“What’d my brother do now?” Raven asked, walking up to the group. She stood beside Taiyang and he automatically put his arm around her shoulders.

“I didn't do anything.” Qrow defended, holding his hands up to plead his innocence.

“Is that my ring?” Raven asked, pointing to a thin silver band Qrow was wearing on his finger.

“This ring?” Qrow asked, looking at it incredulously. “Don’t think so. I found it with Summer’s stuff, so I don’t think it’s yours.”

“Qrow!” Summer grabbed Qrow’s hand and examined the ring. It had the Rose emblem carved into it and Summer just shook her head as Qrow took his hand back. “For someone named Qrow, you’re more of a magpie.” Summer teased, darting out of the way before he could mess up her hair again. (Yes, maybe she used her semblance to cheat just a little - it wasn’t like Qrow didn’t use his semblance to cheat, either).

“So are we going into Vale or what?” Raven asked, looping her arm around Taiyang’s waist.

“Sure,” Qrow said. Summer snuck up behind him and jumped on his back, pointing dramatically to the gate that separated the school to the rest of the world.

“Let’s go!” Summer exclaimed. Qrow barely stumbled as he adjusted for Summer’s weight and started walking at Summer’s insistence. Taiyang just laughed and followed, still with his arm around Raven’s shoulder.

“Hey, Tai and Ray!” Qrow called, effortlessly walking backwards and keeping both his balance and footing. “Can you two lovebirds hurry up?”

Raven lifted her hand and made an obscene gesture at her brother. Qrow put his hand over his heart, nearly unseating Summer and making her and Taiyang laugh.

“Language, Miss Branwen.” A teacher said, throwing the team a smile as they walked past. Raven didn't even bother looking sheepish; she wasn’t sorry. Probably never would be.

“Hey, Tai!” Summer called out, one arm around Qrow’s neck to try and stop herself from falling. “It’s your turn to pick where we go.”

“Lead the way, Xiao Long.” Raven teased, gesturing before them. Her smile was gentle and reserved only for him and it made his heart feel lighter in his chest.

“Alright then.” Taiyang said, catching up with Summer and Qrow. “Let’s go. I know this nice little coffee place that Qrow hasn’t been kicked out of yet.”

“Yet being the operative word.” Raven said teasingly.

“Qrow promised to behave today.” Summer said, still clinging to Qrow’s shoulders.

“What did you promise him?” Raven asked. She knew her brother better than anyone, so she knew better.

“Two days of desserts.” Qrow supplied, adjusting himself to support Summer without really thinking about it. His hands were hooked under Summer’s knees and from the way he carefully carried himself so as to not jostle her too much, it seemed pretty obvious that this wasn’t the first time they had done this.

The air was warm as they walked and they passed a few fellow students that were unfazed by how team STRQ laughed a bit too loud together and teased each other endlessly. They were still young and unaware of the world outside of the Academy, but they didn’t seem to mind all that much.

***

Taiyang nervously tapped his foot as he waited for the knock at the door. When he finally heard it, Taiyang couldn't open the door fast enough.

“Summer, I don’t know what to do.” Taiyang said, practically pleading with the person on the doorstep. He held a small bundle in his arms protectively and he gently rocked from side to side to calm the fidgeting child.

“How did this happen?” Summer asked, pulling her hood down as she stepped into the small cottage. She closed the door behind her and made sure to take her snow-caked boots off at the door.

“I don’t know. Raven, she just- she just _left_. No note or anything.” Taiyang said. He started to very gently bounce the small baby in his arms in an attempt to calm them.

“Tai, calm down. There has to be a reason that Raven just left.” Summer said, stepping up to Taiyang and squeezing his shoulder comfortingly. His scroll started ringing and he looked back down at the child.

“Can you hold Yang for a moment?” Taiyang asked.

“Of course.” Summer scooped the small bundle into her arms and Taiyang paused for a moment to marvel at how quickly the baby started giggling at Summer’s funny little noises.

He picked up his scroll and was relieved to hear a familiar voice on the other end.

“ _Tai? Is everything okay?_ ” Qrow’s voice sounded concerned. “ _I got just a load of messages from you asking about Raven_.”

“She’s gone. And I can’t find her anywhere.” Taiyang explained, glancing over at Summer and his daughter. Summer was obviously trying her hardest to focus fully on the baby but he had no delusions that she was listening to every word.

“ _Did she get a mission? Something from Ozpin maybe?_ ” Qrow suggested. He started to sound more worried.

“No. All her stuff’s gone. I just thought maybe you’d know where she went.” Taiyang said, pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand.

“ _Sorry Tai. She didn't tell me anything._ ” Qrow apologised. “ _Look, I’ll have to call you back. I’ll be back in Vale in about a week, so hold on okay_.”

The call ended and Taiyang sank onto a chair by the fireplace. He held his head in his hands and Summer suspected that he was trying not to cry. She slowly walked over and perched on the footstool in front of him. Baby Yang was holding Summer’s finger in her whole hand and making small noises of happiness. Those noises and the sounds of the fireplace were the only thing keeping them from total silence.

“She looks like you.” Summer said finally. Taiyang looked up at her, his eyes red and tired.

“What?”

“Yang takes after you. Look.” Summer shifted closer and pulled her hand away a little. Yang looked up at them with big lilac eyes and giggled at the sight of her father. “She’s got your smile. And your hair and your mother’s eyes.”

Taiyang looked up at Summer, his eyes glossy but, impossibly, a smile on his face.

“She does look like me, doesn't she?” He said, though it sounded like it was more to himself.

“Tai, I know we’re not in Beacon anymore, but we’re still a team.” Summer said gently. “We’re going to help you through this. Anything you need. We’ll help you look after Yang, no matter what, okay?”

“Okay.” Taiyang said, looking down at his daughter. He reached out and gently stroked her downy hair. “Yang likes you, Summer.”

“You think?” Now it was Summer’s turn to sound a little hopeful.

“Oh yeah.” Taiyang promised. “She doesn't just giggle for anybody, you know.”

He looked up and met Summer’s eye, giving her a thankful smile. They were a team. Always have been, always will.

***

Taiyang burst through the door. He looked a mess and he let his coat fall to the ground as he ran through the house into one of the bedrooms.

“I’m here! I got here as soon as I could!” He breathed heavily as he threw open the door. Summer and Qrow looked up in surprise and Taiyang felt himself sag. Yang jumped off Summer’s bed and ran to her father. He barely hesitated before he scooped her up in a hug.

“It’s okay, Tai. You missed all the blood and screaming.” Qrow said jokily from his seat beside the bed.

“And that was only Qrow.” Summer teased, holding the newborn that had been wrapped in every blanket possible to keep them warm from the cold outside. She was sweaty and she looked tired, but her smile had never been bigger.

“You just missed the midwife.” Qrow said, watching as Taiyang walked over to the bed and sat down beside Summer. Taiyang looked over at Qrow with a look on his face that he hadn’t seen since Yang was born. “Everything’s okay, no complications, and the baby’s a healthy girl.”

“What should we name her?” Summer asked, looking down at the small baby in her arms. She had been cleaned and she was looking up at her parents with big silver eyes, just like her mother’s.

“Well, she’s got Summer’s hair.” Qrow spoke up, looking at the baby fondly. “What about a red name?”

“What about Ruby?” Summer suggested, looking up at Taiyang.

“I think it’s perfect.” Taiyang said, reaching forwards and gently stroking his baby’s cheek with the back of his index finger. Yang looked down at her sister with wonder and reached out towards her. Ruby saw the hand coming towards her and lifted her chubby little hand to meet Yang’s. It was such an innocent moment and Yang looked at the much smaller hand as if she didn’t want to let go.

“Welcome to the family, Ruby Xiao Long.” Summer cooed, looking down at her new baby.

“Ruby Rose sounds better.” Qrow said. Summer looked up at him with a small frown but Taiyang paused for a moment. “What? She’s got the Rose family eyes.”

“She _does_ have your silver eyes.” Taiyang mused, shifting Yang the smallest amount on his hip. Summer looked down at Ruby again as Yang’s grip on Ruby’s hand slipped.

“ _Ruby Rose_.” Summer said, testing out how it sounded. “I like it. It sounds… poetic.”

“Ruby Rose, it is.” Taiyang said, setting Yang down on the bed between him and Summer.  “Can I hold her?” He asked.

“Sure.” Summer propped herself up enough to comfortably hand her over and Taiyang felt the air leave his lungs for a moment as Ruby looked up at him with a toothless smile on her face. He’d almost forgotten how it felt.

“Hey Ruby, I’m your dad.” Taiyang said, feeling himself tear up with all the emotions. He gently tickled Ruby’s chin and she put her whole hand around his finger while she giggled at him. “This is your big sister, Yang.”

Taiyang pointed to the toddler with the captured finger and Ruby’s eyes followed. Yang gave her a little wave and Ruby laughed again.

“And _that’s_ your uncle Qrow.” Taiyang said, turning his body so Ruby could see the man across from her. Qrow looked up at him, an odd look on his face. “He’s pretty grumpy sometimes but he’s actually nice, I promise.”

“I’m only grumpy when your dad makes me.” Qrow said, feeling the need to defend himself to a baby who was less than a day old. Yang laughed about that and so did Summer, because it felt very _Qrow_ to try and justify himself to a newborn.

“And of course, that’s your mom, Ruby.” Taiyang said, aiming Ruby at Summer. “And we’re going to be the best family ever.”

“Are you ready to let go of her?” Summer asked gently. She made a small nod towards Qrow and Taiyang understood.

“I don’t think I ever want to let her go.” Taiyang joked, but he did pass Ruby back to Summer, the muscle memory of holding a child properly coming back to him in a moment.

“Qrow, come here for a minute.” Summer said, adjusting the blankets that surrounded her newborn. Qrow moved from his seat to sit on the edge of the bed. “Hold out your arms.”

Qrow knew what Summer was going to do, but he didn’t resist as Summer carefully lowered Ruby into Qrow’s arms. He carefully adjusted to properly cradle her head and Ruby looked up at him curiously. Yang clambered over the sheets to sit on Summer’s lap. Summer’s arms wound around Yang’s small body and Taiyang could never think of a more perfect moment. He pressed a gentle kiss to Summer’s forehead and she tiled her head up enough to give him a kiss on the lips. Yang would have pulled a face if she was paying attention to anything other than her new sister.

“Hey kiddo.” Qrow said. He kept glancing up at Summer and Taiyang as if asking for reassurance that he was doing it right. “I know we’re not related by blood, but I’ve been best friends with your mom and dad for practically my whole life, so I’m going to be the best damn uncle you and Yang could ever want. We’re a family now, and I think you’re going to like it here.”

Taiyang looked at Summer with her arms around Yang like it was the most natural thing in the world, and Qrow holding Ruby like he was afraid she was going to break but determined to keep her whole, and he knew that if he had the chance to go back to his first day at Beacon before he knew his team…

Well, Taiyang wouldn’t have changed a thing.

***

“Tai,” Qrow stood in his bedroom doorway, looking down at the figure who was curled up under the blankets. “This is crazy. You need help.”

“Go away, Qrow.” Taiyang’s voice was muffled under the sheets, but Qrow knew him well enough to know what his crying sounded like. Qrow was just thankful that the girls were asleep in their rooms.

“Tai…” Qrow walked over to the bed and sat down beside Taiyang’s head. He pulled his oldest friend out from under the sheets and wrapped his arms around his chest, shifting him onto his lap. Taiyang’s arms wrapped around Qrow and he rested his head on Qrow’s bicep.

“I can’t believe it, Qrow.” Taiyang’s grip was tight but Qrow didn’t complain. They’d been through enough for Qrow to know that Taiyang needed something, _anything_ , to ground himself.

“I know.” Qrow said soothingly. “Tai, I want to get you some help.”

“It doesn’t matter, Qrow.” Taiyang murmured.

“Yes it _does_ matter, Tai.” Qrow hardened his voice enough to get his point across. “You’ve got two daughters who need you, you’ve got a job at Signal that you love: you have a _life_ , Tai. This shouldn’t be the end of it.”

Qrow felt his shoulders curl forwards and he held Taiyang tighter.

“It’s been months. I know it still hurts, Tai, but Summer wouldn’t want this to be the end of you.” Qrow said softly. “Summer would want you to be strong.”

“I can’t do this by myself, Qrow.” Taiyang looked up at Qrow and he could see how bloodshot Taiyang’s eyes were from all the tears he must have shed when no one was looking.  

“I’m not saying you should.” Qrow said gently. “We’re still a team, so I’m going to help you through this. No matter what it takes.”

“How can you be so strong, Qrow? You lost her too.” Taiyang forced himself to sit up and he looked Qrow in the eye. Qrow’s arms stayed around his friend, because he knew he still needed it.

“Because if I knew Summer at all, she would want her family to be okay.” Qrow said. “And when I’m not okay, I have my methods to get through the day.”

“Like what?” Taiyang wiped his face with the palm of his hand but he fixed Qrow with a concerned look. “Qrow, have you started drinking again?” Qrow’s smile turned wry.

“There’s the Taiyang I remember.” Qrow said.

“Qrow-”

“I haven’t been drinking around the girls, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Qrow said. “And I’ve been staying away from the hard stuff. They need someone to look after them until you’re back on your feet, and I can’t do that drunk.”

Taiyang nodded absently. It wasn't the answer he wanted but it was the one Qrow was willing to give him. He suddenly slumped forwards, resting his head on Qrow’s shoulder.

“Qrow, I don’t know what to do.”

“Well, I guess step one is taking a shower and eating dinner.” Qrow said gently. Taiyang nodded and finally pulled away from Qrow. He had a steely look in his eye, and Qrow knew that he had gotten through to Taiyang. Taiyang had his determination back. He was a survivor again; and hopefully this was what they both needed to get their lives back from the tragedy.


	2. Did They Seem Afraid of You?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> preface: explained pretty well in [this text post of mine ](http://private-doughnut.tumblr.com/post/139328977389/okay-but-ever-since-ep-10-ive-thought-about-the) but basically, I adore the idea of Port and Oobleck being friends since school so that was a major basis for this chapter. 
> 
> also that one scene in v3ep10 where Port and Oobleck fight back to back gave me a lot of unnecessary emotional strife

Bartholomew landed on the forest ground lightly and raised his weapon, spinning to ensure the area was safe. A small flame flickered at the end of the telescopic flamethrower and his thumb hovered over the button that would ignite it.

He was stopped short by a figure aiming a blunderbuss at his chest. The other person was much shorter than he was, and they were forced to aim upwards. They had blonde hair that looked almost silver that was combed in an old fashion and somehow still looked pristine even after being launched into a forest.

“Well, looks like we’re partners now.” The other boy said, shouldering the blunderbuss and extending his hand to Bartholomew. “Peter. Peter Port.”

Bartholomew lowered his weapon and reached out as well, shaking the other’s hand.

“Bartholomew Oobleck.” He said, almost shy at his own name. Compared to the other boy, he was too tall, too lanky, too messy, too erratic and shy. But Peter shook his hand with a glint in his eye that looked like an unbridled joy Bartholomew hadn’t experienced for a long time. Peter’s hand was solid and even when he pulled his hand away, his stance was steady as a rock and confident. Like he was _born_ for the role of a Hunter.

“Well, we’d best be on our way if we want to get one of those relics before nightfall.” Peter said, and Bartholomew was beginning to think that everything about the boy was just _grand_. Their speech, their button-up trench coat, their weapon that was a fusion of a blunderbuss and a battle axe.

“Right, you are.” Bartholomew agreed, keeping his weapon at the ready just in case. Peter threw him a smile and Bartholomew smiled back, almost against himself.

It was a strange feeling to feel comfortable around someone almost instantly, but even when Ursa stumbled onto their path and they stumbled over themselves and each other as they tried to find their groove in their fighting, Bartholomew was glad he landed where he did.

***

“ _-art! Bart!_ ”

Bartholomew barely registered the feeling of someone shaking his shoulder, or the shouts that were nothing more than white noise ringing in his ears. He didn’t feel the ground against his knees as he fell, or his partner’s arms around him, trying to keep him on his feet.

All he could see where the ghosts of the people he once knew, walking down the ruined streets he once haunted. The buildings were decrepit but he still saw the outlines of their lives, before-

Before the attack.

Before the Grimm.

Before he saw everyone he knew and everyone he loved murdered in front of him.

“ _Barty! Can you hear me?!_ ”

He felt tears well up in his eyes but they refused to fall; they existed just to burn his eyes.  

“ _It’s not safe here! We need to leave._ ”

Bartholomew barely registered being lifted up and dragged into a nearby facade until his partner was kneeling in front of him, taking up his whole field of vision. Peter was looking at him with worry in his eyes.

“Barty, Barty can you hear me?”

“Peter...?” Bartholomew blinked. The world slowly came back to him and he began to register different stimuli again. Peter’s tight hand on his shoulder, the cold stone on his back, that pebble digging into his leg.

“Bart! I was worried for a second there.” Peter said, sitting back. The look in his eye betrayed the confidence in his tone and Bartholomew reached out towards him. Peter immediately grabbed his hand and Bartholomew focused on him, on the pressure on their hands clasped together.

“I didn’t expect-” Bartholomew began, looking out at the streets through a gap in the building. “I knew so many people here. And now they’re all gone.”

“That’s it, I’m calling off the mission, Barty.” Peter declared, standing and moving to let go. But Bartholomew held on.

“No, it’s quite alright.” Bartholomew protested, using the wall behind him as leverage to stand. “I can still proceed with the mission.”

“Are you sure, Barty?” Peter looked concerned, so Bartholomew smiled at him.

“Peter, you know I’m not one for needless self-sacrifice.” He said, doing his best to reassure his friend. “I am perfectly capable of doing this job, it was just a bit of a shock seeing this town in this way.”

Peter didn’t look all too convinced. He clutched Bartholomew’s hand just a bit tighter, and he realised just how worried Peter had been for him.

“Peter, we have a job to do. I promise you that I’m fine.” Bartholomew said, matching Peter’s grip in a silent reassurance.

“I’ll hold you to that, Bart.” Peter said, his back straightening and shoulders squaring as he regained his composure. It was quite a transformation in such a simple gesture, and Bartholomew was continually impressed at how Peter managed to carry such an image around with him when he himself couldn’t even keep his uniform tidy, much less his persona.

He couldn’t remember who was the one to pull their hand away first, but Bartholomew remembered sitting up on watch that night by their campfire, his weapon laid across his knees. The Grimm moved in small herds a fair few streets away and Bartholomew watched them idly. They were fascinating creatures, even if some breeds seemingly wanted nothing more than the destruction of humanity.

Peter was asleep and Bartholomew wondered how the rest of his team was doing on the other side of the city. He wondered if they saw the same ghosts he did.

“ _Bart…_ ”

The small sound caught his attention and Bartholomew looked over to see Peter shifting in his sleep. It took him a few seconds to realise it was _Peter_ who had spoken.

Was he having a nightmare? Why else would he have muttered in his sleep?

Bartholomew entertained the idea of waking him up if it was in fact a nightmare, but Peter’s face smoothed out again and his breathing was even, so Bartholomew left him be.

***

It wasn’t until years later, when they’d lost and found each other again that they grew as comfortable with each other as they had once been. The regained their friendship in adulthood, when one went by Professor and the other Doctor.

It had taken them barely any time to fall back into their easy-going ways together.

The students could almost sense the change in the teachers and it sparked their curiosity like nothing else. A few of the bravest elder students approached Peter and Bartholomew after lectures and classes, slyly probing for details.

Peter would laugh and lean against his desk while the students listened to him tell grand tales of their victories from their adolescence. The students would be amazed at the change in his tone from the usual grand tone of the tales he would tell in his lectures. His tone was gentler and the focus seemed absently _away_ from him.

Bartholomew would sit behind his desk, trying and failing to organise the papers littering his desk, and he would look up at the students over his glasses. He would casually tell the students that they were classmates, and that didn’t they have other classes to get to. The students would always try for more details until Bartholomew would sigh and tell them the story of how his team formed. Bartholomew could tell that it was almost comforting for the students to know that their teachers had been through the same struggles and the same strife.

“Wait,” One student would inevitably say, looking at Bartholomew with an intense look of confusion. “Does that mean you and Professor Port are the same age?”

Bartholomew would always laugh and tell them something along the lines of how he never looked his age, or that Peter had always aged faster. If he was in a good enough mood, Bartholomew might make a joke about it and the student would laugh and Bartholomew would send them away to their friends who were waiting outside the door for them.

Peter and Bartholomew would talk about these students at nights or early mornings over various types of drinks, and they would laugh because they knew they probably would have done the same if they were students again.

***

“That Rose girl seems special, doesn’t she?” Peter said, looking at Bartholomew over his tumbler of whiskey. “She reminds me of her mother, if I am completely honest.”

“Oh yes. She is exceptionally skilled for someone of her age. It’s no wonder Ozpin accepted her so early in her life.” Bartholomew agreed, holding a very similar (though slightly emptier) tumbler. “Even her cape is reminiscent of her mother’s.”

“And her team seems to work very well together,” Peter added, watching Bartholomew take a seat next to him on the semi-ratty love seat in his room.

The teacher’s rooms were typically smaller than the students, but they were more like small apartments and Bartholomew liked the plush luxuries of Peter’s. Bartholomew’s room was always covered in random sheets of paper that seemed to accumulate on every available surface.

Peter’s room was soft and inviting, just like the man. It was just as cluttered as Bartholomew’s, but the cabinets were filled with trinkets of past victories and small memories captured to be gazed upon and discussed together in a haze of cheap whiskey and laughter.

“Yes, yes, quite. Team RWBY definitely seems to be one that will do great things.” Bartholomew agreed. “Do you remember when we were first-year students, Peter?” His voice turned soft and Peter thought that maybe they had both had maybe a little too much to drink. A photo album with old and cracked images of a much blonder Peter and a much tidier Bartholomew.

“Like it was yesterday, Barty.” Peter said. “I remember you cared more about researching and the history of Grimm than you did about fighting Them.”

“I remember.” Bartholomew said, taking a sip of the drink. “You always jumped into a fight so readily.”

“Those Grimm never knew what hit them!” Peter gestured grandly, spilling some of his drink on the soft carpet under their feet.

“We were quite a team, weren’t we?” Bartholomew said, a smile on his face as he looked at the images of their shared youth.

“We still are, Barty.” Peter said, and it sounded like a promise. Bartholomew finished his drink and placed it on the table, being careful of the memories. Peter fixed him with a strange lookHe looked over at his friend and Peter looked back at him.

They weren’t sure if there were any words left to say. Peter gently put his glass on the table and carefully reached out to take Bartholomew’s hand. It was an innocent move, but it felt like so much more. Had they really been dancing around this for so long?

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the stress of teaching, that made Bartholomew lean forwards and close the space between them. The kiss barely lasted a few seconds, and they were the longest few seconds of their lives.

It was Bartholomew who pulled away first. He looked like he was shocked and ashamed of his own actions.

“I- I don’t quite know why I did that-” Bartholomew said, standing up and stumbling over his words. He pulled his hand out of Peter’s, turning to flee the room. But Peter grabbed the other’s wrist to keep him in place.

Bartholomew’s blue eyes were wide behind his glasses as Peter very gently pulled him back onto the loveseat. He was very still as Peter lifted his hand to the side of Bartholomew’s head and gently brushed away a few stray strands of green hair.

Peter’s mustache tickled Bartholomew’s face as they kissed again. After all the emotions in his chest had settled down, Bartholomew’s hands settled on Peter’s sides and he shifted ever so slightly closer. Peter’s hand slid around Bartholomew’s neck and played with the wispy hairs along the nape of his neck.

Bartholomew kept having to duck his head to make up for the height difference until Peter’s hands grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled them both down until they were lying on the loveseat together.

The only regret either of them had about that night was that they had waited so long to do so.

***

“ _One final match, Barty! Place your bets!_ ”

Peter’s voice echoed around their memories as they stood watch over some students that were waiting for another airship.

Bartholomew’s hand was clenched around his thermos in weapon form while the other was wrapped around a wound on his arm, applying enough pressure to try and stem the bleeding. He was leaning on his weapon to try and cover up the exhaustion that racked his body.

Peter was stood next to a student from Atlas, gently wrapping a bandage around their knee. Their friend was watching Peter, thanking him profusely even though Peter laughed and brushed it off. As soon as he had finished taking care of the student, Peter stood up and looked around at the small cluster of students and civilians that were still left.

He walked over to stand beside Bartholomew, gently placing his hand on his friend’s back. Bartholomew looked up at him and gave him a gentle smile to try and communicate that he was okay.

“Give me your arm.” Peter said, still holding some leftover bandages. Bartholomew shifted his weight and relaxed his arm enough for Peter to tie off a makeshift tourniquet to do what he could before they got to the safe zone.

 _It isn’t much, but it will have to do_. Peter thought to himself as he kept his hands on Bartholomew’s arm almost forgetfully. At least, that would be his excuse.

Peter couldn’t help but feel a lump of guilt in his chest when he remembered why that wound existed. Bartholomew adjusted his weight again after Peter was done and put his uninjured hand over Peter’s.

Rapid footsteps made them both look up at the something pure white against the grey background was approaching. Something in Bartholomew’s chest sank as he realised that there was only one figure when two had left.

“Miss Schnee.” Bartholomew straightened his back, putting all thought of pain to the back of his mind.

“Weiss!” Miss Nora Valkyrie said, reaching out towards Miss Weiss Schnee as soon as she was in range. She was doubled over, breathing heavily with her weapon as her crutch.

“Miss Schnee, are you alright?” Peter asked, walking over to her to see if she was uninjured. Bartholomew followed, keeping a mindful eye on the other students around them.

“Professor Port!” Miss Schnee gasped out, trying to catch her breath but still frantic. “I need to find Jaune. He called us and said Pyrrha was going to fight someone but his scroll cut out and then Ruby ran up the tower and I can’t find him-”

“Slow down, dear girl.” Peter said gently, holding out his arms to try and placate the girl. “I will go with you to find Mr Arc. Don’t worry, we won’t leave until all of them are on the airship with us. I’m positive that they are just fine at this moment.”

“Do you mean that Professor?” Miss Schnee asked, looking more for comfort than reassurance.

“Of course I do.” Peter promised. “They were trained by some of the finest men and women I have ever met.”

“Another airship is inbound.” An Atlesian soldier announced, flagging down the next airship.

“Barty, will you be able to watch over these students until I get back.” Peter asked, turning back to Bartholomew, who only shifted his shoulders and adjusted his grip on his weapon.

“Of course. Just make sure you all come back here.” Bartholomew promised. “Peter, you had better come back. I won’t have you dying after everything that has happened today.” He added, reaching out to his old friend. Peter smiled under his mustache and took Bartholomew’s hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“I wouldn’t _dream_ of it, Barty.” Peter said. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Professor, we should go.” Miss Schnee prompted gently.

“Of course, dear girl.” Peter said, letting go of Bartholomew’s hand reluctantly and turning around to face the students. “Miss Schnee, I want you to stay here.”

“But-”

“I will not have another student being injured. Stay here with your teammates.” Peter said. “Now do you know roughly where Mr Arc was last?”

Miss Schnee pointed him in the right direction and Bartholomew had to look away as Peter left at a run to find him.

“Mr Wukong, can you help me escort Miss Xiao Long and Miss Belladonna onto the airship?” Bartholomew asked, visibly pulling himself together.

Mr Wukong shook himself but immediately ran to Miss Belladonna’s side, lifting her up and very gently started moving to the airship. Bartholomew gently laid his thermos on the ground and picked up Miss Xiao Long in his arms. He saw Miss Schnee run up to him and stay close as he walked into the hull of the airship.

“Miss Schnee, are you okay to watch over Miss Xiao Long?” Bartholomew asked, gently setting the girl down and propping her up on the wall of the hull. Mr Wukong spotted them and moved Miss Belladonna over to where they were, letting her lean against the wall.

“Of course, Professor.” Miss Schnee said, kneeling down beside her teammates. She had a look of worry etched into her features that shouldn’t have been there on someone so young.

Bartholomew nodded and left the airship, returning to pick up his weapon from it’s place on the ground. He saw Miss Valkyrie propping up Mr Lie as they stumbled into the airship, standing beside the remnants of team RWBY.

He looked back at the city, knowing that it was too early to be worried about Peter or the others. Bartholomew stood there for a few minutes after everyone else was safely aboard the airship, silent and pensive.

“Sir? We need to go.” The same Atlesian soldier said, walking up beside Bartholomew.

“We don’t leave until everyone is on board.” Bartholomew said without even looking at the soldier. His tone was enough to make the soldier back off, but he knew at some point they would _need_ to get these students to safety.   

Two figures started running towards them, and Bartholomew allowed himself to feel hopeful.

“JAUNE!” Miss Valkyrie shouted from inside the airship. Mr Arc ran past Bartholomew, stopping in front of his teammate and breaking down into her arms. Miss Valkyrie held onto the boy tightly and Mr Lie brought both of them into his hug, whispering small words that Bartholomew couldn’t hear and didn’t want to.

“I found the boy, but I can’t make it up to the tower.” Peter said, catching up to Bartholomew and catching his breath slightly.

“So they’re still up there?” Bartholomew asked, looking up at the tower that Ozpin’s office was. The top of it had been blown out at some point in the chaos.

A white, blinding flash obscured their vision and both men were forced to throw their arms up in front of their face to block out as much of the light as possible.

“What was that?!” Peter’s voice was confused and Bartholomew felt a reassuring hand on the small of his back.  

“I don’t know, Peter.” Bartholomew said, looking back up at the tower as soon as the white light faded. He thought he saw a small black dot on the side of the tower travelling upwards.

“WE NEED TO GO, _NOW_.” The Atlesian soldier shouted, storming up to Bartholomew. They grabbed his arm but Bartholomew tore his arm away and aimed his weapon at the soldier.

“We won’t leave our students behind.” Bartholomew gritted his jaw, seeing Peter taking a defensive stance beside him.

“Well, they’re here now.” Another voice said, sounding directly behind the two men. The voice belonged to a slightly greying man who was dressed in a similar style to the young huntress he was carrying in his arms.

“RUBY!” Miss Schnee sounded panicked as she approached them. She stopped short in front of the man, her hands covering her mouth in shock. “Qrow, what happened to her?”

“I found her passed out on top of Ozpin’s tower.” Qrow said, walking past them to the airship that was still waiting. “Don’t worry, Ruby’ll be fine.”

“And what about Miss Nikos?” Bartholomew asked, following Qrow to the airship. Peter was the one to usher Miss Schnee back towards safety.

“Huh?” Qrow paused and glanced over his shoulder at Bartholomew. “I didn’t see anyone else up on that tower.”

“Barty, we need to go.” Peter said gently, shaking the man into movement. Bartholomew followed the rest of them onto the airship. He tried to block out the sounds of team JNPR mourning, and of team RWBY’s worried whispers as half their team lay unconscious.

All he could do was focus on the humming of the engine and Peter’s hand in his own. Bartholomew finally felt his exhaustion and blood loss wash over him. Peter gently guided him onto the floor of the airship, sitting down next to him.

Bartholomew slouched down and rested his head on Peter’s shoulder, taking deep breaths. Peter’s grip tightened on Bartholomew’s hand and felt his own exhaustion settle deep in his chest.

Out of all their battles, and all their victories or failures, Bartholomew had a feeling that it would be a while before the pain had healed before Peter would be able to regale his students with tales of the Battle of Beacon Academy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also I'm so so sorry if I messed up the flashbacks in any way...


	3. I Can Say It But You Won't Believe Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This _was_ supposed to be the last chapter but I had an idea for a final, fourth chapter so yeah :/ that'll take a while because of exams and stuff, sorry
> 
> Good thing these are standalone chapters :D  
> (this one is all the ironqrow, honestly)

James Ironwood always had a love-hate relationship with rules. And this mindset was both a saviour and a curse having been born and bred in Atlas.

His parents were strict but loving enough so that James never felt neglected. His teachers raised their students to be brave and studious but also to believe in the strength of the Atlesian army.

James grew up infatuated with the army, and subsequently, Hunters and Huntresses. He went through his years at the Academy striving to be the best. Not the best he could be, the _best_. He was top of his class and strived for perfection. His teammate grew to be his best friend.

They trained together, lived together, ate together, comforted each other. James had never considered growing close with anyone else and at that time in his life, he didn’t want to.

James loved the regulations that army brought. He rose through the ranks and found himself as General Church’s right hand man less than ten years after graduation. The General favoured his opinion and his parent’s couldn’t be more proud of him.

The ‘ _hate_ ’ part of the relationship only rose to the surface when he received word that his closest friend during his days-in-training had been shot by his own corp for insubordination after abandoning his position to throw himself between a Creature of Grimm and an old man.

After that, James found it pretty hard to hold onto his blind faith.

***

“ _Hold your tongue_.” James snapped, almost throwing Qrow against a wall and pinning him there with his forearm pressed to his throat.

“Yeah?” Qrow’s mouth quirked upwards. An obvious challenge. “Why don't you make me?”

“Enough!” Glynda snapped. James took a breath and stepped away from Qrow, folding his arms behind his back and standing to attention beside his mentor.

“Heh. That’s right.” Qrow muttered, sauntering towards the door of Ozpin’s office. “All you Atlas types are the same. You’ll obey anyone who’s loud enough.”

“You little-” James snapped, forgetting himself for a moment.

“Petty bickering amongst ourselves won't accomplish anything.” Ozpin interrupted, once again being the voice of reason.

“I expect better of you.” The General said, frowning at James in a disappointed manner. James hung his head in a show of submission but he didn't miss the grin on Qrow's face.

“James, would you please give us a moment?” Glynda asked, her arms folded over her chest. She was a fair few years younger than him but from the way she stood beside Ozpin’s desk, James knew he didn't want to get on her bad side.

“Go back to your quarter’s. I will inform you if anything happens.” The General said, very obviously dismissing him.

James lifted his head and nodded, keeping his gaze straight ahead as he walked to the lift that would take him down to the rest of the school.

“See what I mean? You Atlas people raise guard dogs, not hunters.” Qrow said, a sneer in his voice.

“Ozpin, I want him out.” General Church said gruffly.

“Qrow Branwen has even more of a right to be here than you, dear General.” Ozpin reminded him gently. “However, I think it would be best if we discuss this in private.”

James stopped in the loft and turned just in time to see Qrow stalk over and stand beside him. He flashed James a smug grin and pressed the button for him.

They waited until the doors had closed before either of them said anything.

“It’s a wonder you haven't been shot for insubordination yet.” James almost snapped, not quite looking at the other man.

“News flash, Jimmy. Ozpin’s not my handler.” Qrow said, a drawl in his voice that _oozed_ arrogance.

“I still don't know what you did to earn any of Ozpin’s respect.” James replied. “And don't call me Jimmy.”

“Well now you’ve told me I can’t, that’s all I want to do, _Jimmy_.” Qrow teased. James felt his temper boil and closed his hand around the pistol at his hip.

“Give me a reason I shouldn't shoot you right now.” James grit his teeth and did all he could to get his anger under control. He knew exactly what Qrow was doing, and what was worse was that James was playing right into it.

“Well for one thing, Ozpin would be pissed at you.” Qrow said, leaning against the wall of the lift in a distinctly non-threatened way. “Geez, all you soldiers have a stick up your ass, don’t you? Loosen up, Jimmy.”

“I’d suppose you would know exactly what that was like.” James spat. “The failed Hunter who has a few good connections and can barely hold his job at Signal academy. Tell me, Qrow, how has loosening up ever helped you?”

Qrow’s jaw tightened and James felt a pang of victory at the anger in the other man’s red eyes. But Qrow just smiled at him. It was almost predatory and James resisted the urge to take a step back.

“Well, when you get over yourself, call me and I’ll show you just how much it’s helped me.” Qrow said, strolling out the lift as soon as the doors opened. He winked just before he turned a corner out of sight and James was just left to wonder exactly what the _hell_ had just happened.

***

“Absolutely not.”

James knew he would be reprimanded for the way he talked back to a superior, but at that moment James didn’t care. He _refused_ to be deployed on a mission with Qrow Branwen of all people. Regardless of if the General was accompanying them.

“James, this is important and General Church personally recommended you for this mission.” Ozpin explained gently. “I know that working with Qrow can be… _unfavourable_ at times, but he is an exceptionally skilled hunter. I have the utmost confidence in you.”

James hung his head and clenched his hand behind his back. A conditioned desire inside himself told him to obey and accept, so James looked up and met Ozpin’s eye.

“Alright. When do we leave?” James said, pulling his composure back together.

He saw Qrow push off the walk and bit down on his tongue before he could say something _unsavory_ at best. James held his breath as Qrow walked past him on his way out of Ozpin’s office.

“General Church is overseeing preparations right now. Your ship leaves tomorrow, so I wouldn’t be late if I was you.” Ozpin said, probably ignoring Qrow as he left.

“Understood, Professor Ozpin.” James said, nodding curtly.

“And Qrow?” Ozpin said, linking his fingers together on his desk. “I expect you to be on your best behaviour.”

“Got it, Ozzy.” Qrow said lazily, giving Ozpin a short wave over his shoulder. “I’ll behave as well as I did last time.”

“I hope you aren’t referring to that time you blew up a Grimm just outside of a village.” Ozpin said, looking at Qrow over the top of his glasses.

“How was I supposed to know that they would explode?” Qrow asked, pausing and flashing a smile at Ozpin over his shoulder. “It’s not like you told me what those Dust cartridges would do.”

“Just make sure nothing like that happens again. This mission requires an element of… _forgettablity_.” Ozpin said. The way he paused gave James a small creep, like they knew something he didn’t. (They probably did).

“Then why’s he coming along?” Qrow asked, obviously referring to James, who forced himself not to react.

“Someone has to keep you in line when the General isn’t around, Qrow.” Glynda said. James had to fight down the small smile and bit down on his lip. “It’s not like you have any idea about restraint and discipline.”

“Tell me how you really feel, Glynda.” Qrow said, stepping through the doors to the lift. “Call me when we’re supposed to leave tomorrow, Ozpin.”

Ozpin watched the doors close and turned his attention to James, who was doing his best to keep his face a mask.

“Please don’t let him get killed.” Ozpin said, almost like a plea.

“I’ll do my best, Sir.” James promised, nodding towards Ozpin and squaring his shoulders again.

***

James couldn’t focus on anything. His entire right side _burned_ and felt numb at the same time. He could barely remember what had happened.

His mind was fuzzy but he felt someone’s arms around his chest, dragging him somewhere. Someone was screaming something. Was it his _name_? Where they actually screaming? Or was James just hyper aware in his injured state?

The edges of his vision began to blacken and James knew he wouldn’t be conscious for much longer. A blur caught his eye and for a moment, James thought he could see a pure white jacket in the jaws of a creature twice his size.

***

“How are you feeling, James?”

James’ eyes were glued a spot in the distance behind Ozpin’s head. The scenery was something to behold from the vantage point that Ozpin called an office and James watched as a bird flew past Mountain Glenn.

“Fine.” James said, his voice calm and undeterred. It had been almost two years since he had seen Ozpin in the flesh and the memory of their last meeting still tore in his chest.

James still saw the grave marked with the name _Church_ and still felt the black band tied tightly around his bicep. He still saw Ozpin’s small figure come up beside him, holding that damned coffee mug. They didn’t talk, they just stood together at the grave.

“ _I’m sorry for your loss, James_.” Ozpin had said finally. He stood on James’ right side. His _ruined_ side. His cold, metal, _not human_ side.

James hadn’t replied. He didn’t have the words to.

Even now, James wasn’t sure of the words to say.

“I must admit, there was a reason I called you here all the way from Atlas.” Ozpin said, placing his mug down on the desk and gesturing to the chair in front of him. James reluctantly took a seat, but still sat stiffly. It wasn’t helping that Glynda and Qrow were practically flanking Ozpin and James didn’t feel strong enough yet with his new… _enhancements_ to feel comfortable.

“It must have been important enough to drag me away from my new duties.” James said, keeping his words as measured as he could.

“I believe it is.” Ozpin said, fixing him with a particularly strange look. “Tell me, James… What do you know of the story of the seasons?”

***

“Hey Jimmy. I guess you’re here for the tournament again.” Qrow’s voice felt like it was grating on James’ already fried nerves.

The P.E.N.N.Y project hit a wall with the manufacture of the synthetic aura and James had been suffering a headache for the last two hours. He felt Qrow walk up to the desk in the guest room and saw him perch on the edge of it out of the corner of his eye.

“Whatever you have to say to me, Qrow, it can wait.” James said, resting his elbows on the desk and massaging his temples gently with his finger tips. He felt something nudge his arm and glanced up to see Qrow holding out a flash to him.  

“I just wanted to check up on you.”  Qrow said, waiting patiently until James finally took the flask and had a swig of the borderline-vile tasting drink inside. It burned his throat but James didn’t mind it. “Ozpin told me that you requested to be left alone tomorrow and I know why.”

“And why’s that?” James said, looking at him challengingly, but he didn’t have enough energy to make himself angry or threatening.

“It’s the day you lost your General.” Qrow said it so simply and casually that James was able to feel the pain in his chest. Not a literal pain - his mechanical half worked overtime to keep him alive - but an emotional pain that his years in Atlas had tried to almost stamp out of him. The ‘ _weakness_ ’ kind of pain.

“How are you so sure it’s that?” James said, not having it in him to argue with Qrow.

“Because you don’t forget the people you can’t save.” Qrow said, taking his flask back and having his own drink. James watched him for a second before snapping his eyes back to the scroll on the desk in front of him. Qrow put the flash down on the desk, well within James’ reach and he understood the implicit offer.  From his seat he could read the inscription that had been carved into the metal.

_To our Qrow on his birthday_

_From Summer and Taiyang_

_(But mostly Summer)_

“You don’t know that.” James said, reaching out and taking another drink from the flask.

“It’s what we do.” Qrow said, shrugging and pulling a single leg up to his chest, resting his arm over his knee. “The victories all sorta _blur_ into one, but the failures… Those are the things that give us nightmares.”

“He shouldn’t have jumped in front of that Grimm. He should have just let me handle it. I could handle it.” James admitted after a few more mouthfuls of the liquid painkiller. Except now the pain felt all-consuming and James hated himself for it. He hated the tears that burned his eyes but never fell. He hated how all it took was a few kind words from a man he barely knew to break down in the memories.

“You know, I was a student at Beacon.” Qrow said conversationally. “I was apart of team STRQ with my sister and our friends Summer and Tai. My sister and Tai had a kid together a couple years after we graduated, but she had to leave. Tai was heartbroken, but Summer was there for him when I couldn’t be. A few years later, they had their own kid.” He looked down at the floor, a sad smile on his face. James felt something strange in his chest mixed in with the grief.  

“Qrow, why are you telling me this?” But Qrow carried on as if James hadn’t spoken.

“And everything was good for a while. My nieces were the happiest little kids I’ve known and I don’t think I’ve ever seen Taiyang as happy as he was when we were all on Patch and playing in the forest. But… I was helping Summer on a mission and we got separated. I didn’t know anything was wrong until I heard her screaming and-” Qrow took a shuddering breath, trying to collect himself. “I had to carry her body back to the house. Tai ran out to meet me and he just broke down. He stayed out there all night in the snow, cradling her and I had to tell the kids.”

“Qrow-”

“What I’m trying to say, Jimmy, is that shit happens. People die, that’s just how it works in our line of business. When we help Ozpin protect the Maidens, we need to do everything in our power to help them. There’s always casualties, all you can do is minimise them.” Qrow said, turning his gaze back to James. It was piercing and James only just realised how haunting his red eyes could be. 

“I appreciate the comfort, Qrow.” James said after a while, forcing himself to meet Qrow’s eye. “And for the alcohol.”

“Well in my experience, only two things can ease grief.” Qrow said, taking a swig from his flask. “One of them is alcohol.”

“What’s the other?”

Qrow looked at James and raised an eyebrow.

"The other is usually blamed on alcohol." Qrow said blandly. It suddenly clicked in James’ mind and he made a soft ‘ _ooh_ ’ sound that twisted Qrow’s mouth into a small smile.

“Am I to assume that you only came here to offer one of those?” James asked.

“I guess that depends on the reaction.” Qrow admitted, shrugging.

James stood up and moved to crowd Qrow. The other man just looked up at James, that annoying and knowing smirk still on his face even as James leaned in. The kiss was experimental, if anything, but Qrow grabbed James’ jacket and pulled him closer.

“ _God_ , took you long enough to get the hint.” Qrow muttered against his lips. James felt a growl in his throat and placed his hands on the desk either side of the other man. The gesture was almost possessive but in more of a comforting way.

“Qrow,” James said, his breath slightly hushed and breathless. “Shut up.”

“Make me.”

“I intend to.”

***

The P.E.N.N.Y project was in shambles.

Literally, scattered on the arena floor.

James stared at the floor through the commentators window, his eyes trained on the red hair and pink bow. The circuits sparked pathetically and his ears were ringing. James had to keep thinking that it was just a robot that had been broken.

If he didn’t…

Another voice took over the commentary and Ironwood felt his fury build as he recognised the voice. He stormed down the corridors, his anger threatening to spill over if he wasn’t careful. Large doors separated him from the announcer’s booth and it took barely any energy for him to throw them open.

James grabbed the microphone from between the two Beacon teachers, holding it so he could speak.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please, there is no need for panic.” James said, using the same tone he used to calm his students.

Something dropped onto the stadium and James cursed his own luck.

A Nevermore? On the arena?

James knew Destiny had a dark sense of humour, but this was something else.

***

“She’s going to be fine, Qrow.” James said gently, watching the hunter from the doorway.

Qrow was sat beside his niece’s - Yang? That was the blonde one, James was pretty sure - bed, resting his head on his closed fist like he was about to fall asleep. He blinked a few times and lifted his head, looking at James like he hadn’t realised the man was even on the same landmass as him.

For all Qrow talked about it, James had to admit that Patch was very pleasant.

“I know.” Qrow said, stretching to ‘ _pop_ ’ his back. “She’s just like Tai. She’ll bounce back. Eventually.”

“Well, I’ve talked with Taiyang about possible prosthetics for her arm when the wound’s healed.” James said, using his Headmaster voice, afraid that any more emotion would cause him to do something he would regret.

“Tai thinks Yang would go for that?” Qrow asked, raising an eyebrow.

“He thinks it’s an option that should be available to Yang until she makes an informed decision.” James' tone was flat and impartial.

“Let me guess, his words were ‘ _it’s Yang’s choice but I think she should go for it_ ’.” Qrow said, finally standing up from his seat.

“That’s exactly what he said.”

“Figures. Tai’s always been more of a ‘ _catch you when you fall_ ’ kind of parent.” Qrow said, walking past James towards another room just down the corridor. He beckoned for James to follow him and James waited for a second as Qrow poked his head around a door, presumably checking on his other niece. (Ruby? Was that the same Ruby who Penny always used to talk about?)

Once he was satisfied that the girl was alright, Qrow stepped backwards, gently shutting the door.

“As much as I like you turning up unannounced,” Qrow said, finally turning to James. “Why are you here, Jim?”

“I’m going back to Atlas indefinitely for my trial.” James said, barely taking a breath to compose himself. He had long-since accepted it, but from the look on Qrow’s face, maybe he should have broken the news just a little bit gentler.

“Wait, _what_? What trial? Who put you on _trial_?”

“I’m on trial for what happened at Beacon. That virus that took over the Knights, happened right under my nose. The P.E.N.N.Y. project was _my_ failure. The Amity Colosseum being overrun with Grimm is being treated as a security failure on my part. As of last week, I have been suspended as Headmaster and Winter Schnee has assumed the position of General.” James relayed, unconsciously standing with his hands behind his back in his most professional stance.

“Yeah yeah, stop talking like you’re giving me a report.” Qrow said, single-handedly breaking down the façade. James sighed and his posture hunched in defeat.

“They need someone to blame. And I screwed up.” James said simply. It didn’t help that afterwards, his own colleges looked at him with new eyes. Barely any of them knew about his prosthetics; barely any of them had seen him without his glove, let alone when his clothes were ripped from an explosion. He still felt raw and vulnerable and he _abhorred_ that feeling with every fibre of his being.

“And Ozpin’s not here to defend you.” Qrow said, tucking his hands into his pockets like a child.

“No one’s willing to speak on my behalf about what happened that night.” James admitted. “And before you say anything about you or Glynda, the Justice system is unlikely to even _allow_ someone to speak in my defence. Someone has to pay for what happened.”

Qrow was quiet for a moment, obviously thinking.

“So you came all the way over here to say goodbye?” He said. James nodded, forcing down any emotion in his chest.

Qrow looked up at James. Within a few seconds, Qrow grabbed James’ collar and pulled him down for a gentle but quick kiss.

It wasn’t some passionate declaration of love, or that they would wait for each other. It was more of a small comfort. They’d had their nights together full of whispered words and passion. But all James wanted now was to know that maybe - _maybe_ \- Qrow would remember him for all the good times: their shared nights, their victories, those rare, tangible moments when they were actually _friends_ ; not all their fights and mistakes and failures.

James knew he would.

That was all he asked for as he left that little house on the island of Patch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took me _so long_ for _no reason_ and I'm so sorry  
>  but it's done  
> and it's okay  
> <3
> 
>  
> 
> (also exploring a rebellious young James Ironwood is interesting and it was fun having my own look on Atlas in this)


	4. Dead Hearts are Everywhere

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IDK about the ending but I started my AS level exams this week and I wanted to get something up because I haven't in a while. Also I just wanted to get this finished. 
> 
> I might go back and tweak some things in the summer when I have more time. but for now, here's the Roman Torchwick chapter (because I love him and I'm still upset)
> 
> (also I took so many liberties but ah well, expect a hell of a lot of headcanons)

“Where are you going to go?”

The teenager paused in his packing and looked over at the young girl sat cross-legged on his bed. She had hair as red as his and her eyes were just a green. Her dress was the cold white of Atlas and the teenager felt his resentment flare up even more. No child as full of life as her should have to wear such drab clothes.

The girl’s face was innocent and she couldn't have been any older than six years old at a push.

“I don’t know.” The teenager admitted, walking over to a dresser and pulling out some shirts to stuff into his pack.

“Then stay.” The young girl pleaded, shifting so she was sat on her knees. The teenager paused and couldn’t look at her.

“I can’t stay here.” The teenager said, forcing himself to move again. He resumed packing, ignoring the pain in his chest. “I can't live in Atlas any longer, P. I could go to Vale. Buy an airship ticket over there and get a job and an apartment.”

The teenager stood and saw the watery eyes of the young girl. She was trying _so hard_ not to cry.

“I’ll write to you, Penelope. As often as I can. And I’ll call you every day.” The teenager promised, pausing in his packing and letting the young girl wrap her arms around his neck. He hoisted her up and she wrapped herself around him as he held onto her just as tightly.

“I’ll miss you, Ro.” The young girl said.

“I’ll miss you too, little Red.” The teenager said, affectionately ruffling the girl's loose hair with the hand that wasn't supporting her.

“Father’s going to be angry at you, but I’ll tell him it was my fault you left. He doesn't get angry with me.” The young girl promised.

“Don't do that for me. I don't want Father to think that you knew. You might get in trouble then.” The teenager said, gently letting the girl down onto his bed. He crouched so they were level and put his hands on the girl’s shoulders. “If they ask where I am tonight, tell them I’m staying over at a friend’s house. Can you do that for me?”

The young girl nodded, the tears still shining in her eyes. But they wouldn't fall. Even at such a young age, Atlas had stamped out the ability to cry from sorrow.

He needed to get out of there as soon as he could.

The thought of taking the young girl with him had kept him up on countless nights, but he knew the world outside the kingdoms were dangerous and he mightn’t have been able to even protect himself; much less the only person in the whole world that he cared about.

The teenager stood up and put his last few possessions into the pack. The young girl watched him as he hoisted the pack onto his back and opened the window.

She gave him one last wave as he dropped onto the ground below and started running.

***

“Where are you heading to, young man?” The security guard asked conversationally to the teenager. He’d been watching over them for the entire trip, much to the teenager’s discontent. (At least they weren’t the creepy guy in the back corner that always seemed to be looking when the teen glanced over).

“Visiting some friends.” The teenager said, hunching his shoulders just the slightest bit forwards again. Thick bandages made it just a little hard to breathe (for once he was thankful for the rigorous exercise and training Atlas forced its people to endure). A small, guiltily acknowledged thrill ran through the teenager at being called a boy. Just one more thing to distance himself from Atlas.

The teen stood as they neared their destination, standing close to the wall with their bag slung over one shoulder casually. As much as they wish they didn’t have to, the teen wore their distinctly-Atlas coat with it buttoned up as far as it could go. Every so often, he would catch a glimpse of himself in the reflection of a window and the teen wouldn’t recognise the young boy looking back with the short hair and the flat chest. Maybe he should get a hat?

“First time in Vale?” The guard asked. The guard was barely a few years older than the teenager, maybe _just_ on the other side of adulthood, and as far as the teen could tell, they were the only people under the age of twenty.

“How’d you guess?” The teenager asked, flashing the guard with their smile that always seemed to make people seem more at ease. The smile didn’t feel overly _natural_ to the teen, but people always became more malleable when he used it, and the teenager needed all the allies he could get.

“Just a hunch.” The security guard said, smiling back shyly. “Need someone to show you around?”

“I think I can manage.” The teen said, watching as the city came into view through the window. “I wouldn’t mind directions to a motel.”

“There’s one two streets down from where we dock.” The guard supplied. “Just take a left and keep walking until you see a sign for The Hunter’s Blade. It’s the name of the bar that’s directly opposite the motel.”

“The Hunter’s Blade, huh? I forgot, this is a Hunter’s town, isn’t it?” The teen said, leaning against the wall casually.

“Well, we don’t get that many experienced Hunters around here. They’re mostly the students from nearby academies. Pretty harmless, in all honesty.” The guard said. A voice came over the speaker system that announced they had a few minutes before they were landing.

The guard glanced around them and quickly pulled out a pen and a small pad of paper. He scribbled down something and quickly tore the page out, folding it and pressing it into the teen’s hand.

“If you ever change your mind about someone showing you around, here’s my number.” The guard said. “You know, just in case you need a friendly face.”

“You know, I might take you up on that offer someday.” The teen said, glancing at the number and the name before tucking the piece of paper into his pocket. “Lark, huh? Odd last name. Got a nice charm to it.”

“Well, then what’s yours?”

“Torchwick.” The teen said. “Roman Torchwick.”

A lie and a fake name.

But it was one he’d chosen for himself, so he was going to wear it until his death. The less he was associated with his family and his father, the absolute better.

“And you said my name’s strange.” The guard said, smiling in a warm way.

“I also said it was charming.” Roman corrected. The airship jolted slightly as it docked and Roman pushed off the wall. “This is my stop. Thanks for the company.” He said, following the crowd towards the exit.

He sent one last wave over his shoulder, a small smile on his face as he dumped the guard’s wallet on the ground outside and pocketed the cash.

It felt a little dishonest, being so friendly to a guy that he then robbed, but Roman didn’t think that in the long run, a few lien were going to damn his soul.

If anything was going to damn his soul, he hoped that it would look cool.

***

“We’re not open yet.” The man behind the bar said, not even looking up as Roman strode inside. He was cleaning the counter rhythmically and with a dedication that was almost loving.

It had been almost a year since Roman had arrived in Vale, and a few months since he started working for the local crime syndicate. He still wore the coat from his home, but he’d long since cut his hair short and wore a grey scarf to cover his neck.

“Oh I know.” Roman said, voice low as he walked up to the bar. The man looked up and frowned, pausing his mechanical movements. “I’m here on behalf of my employer. He says you have something of his and he wants it. Preferably now.”

The man looked at him properly now and frowned. He straightened his back as Roman approached the bar and leaned forwards on it slightly.

“How old are you, kid?” The man asked, putting down the cloth he was using to clean.

“That’s not important.” Roman said immediately, flashing the man a smile. “What’s important is the deal you and my employer have which you need to honour.”

“No seriously, kid. How old are you? Fifteen, sixteen? What did he tell you about me?” The man asked.

“He just told me that I needed to deliver a warning. He wants his payment. Within the week.” Roman said, standing up.

“Whoa, kid. Calm down.” The man said. “Did he even tell you my name?”

Roman couldn’t answer. He grit his teeth and tilted his head up a tiny amount in defiance. There was something about being caught out that Roman hated with a _passion_.

“People call me Junior, by the way.” The man said, walking around the bar so he could stand next to Roman. Roman was half a head shorter than him, which was just downright impressive, considering. “Look, kid, I know what you’re talking about. This isn’t the first time the guy’s tried to pull this on me. Usually it’s some kid who’s too green to know the difference between someone who wants to help them and someone who wants to use them. But since you came in here with a gun in your pocket, I think you’re smarter than you let on to that guy.”

Roman’s hand twitched towards his pocket and Junior smiled in an oddly paternal way. He clapped his hand on Roman’s shoulder but quickly retracted it when he felt Roman flinch.

“Kid, I’ve seen so many kids like you get caught up in all kinds of different gangs. I mean, I _was_ one of those kids that got caught up in gangs. But, hey, I’ve always got a spare room if you need it. Might be a bit crowded with the girls, but we can always make room.”

Roman was speechless. This was _not_ how he expected this meeting to go. He wasn’t sure _how_ he expected it to go, but the offer of a safe place to stay and understanding from a stranger was the polar opposite.

“Never got your name, kid.” Junior said, a very small smile on his face.

“Roman.”

“Well, Roman. You’ve made yourself your first friend in the city.” Junior said, holding his hand out to shake Roman’s.

“Well, the people here aren’t as friendly as Atlas.” Roman said, shaking Junior’s hand but staying reserved.

Junior laughed at that and Roman wondered just how much interaction Junior had had with Atlas natives.

***  

Roman’s hand gripped his stomach with one hand. The other was gripping the wall as he stumbled down the darkened streets.

He didn’t know where he was going. His black gloves were wet and sticky with his own blood. Roman could still hear the sounds of the gunfire echoing in his ears.

A familiar street appeared around him and Roman didn’t know why he kept pushing one foot in front of the other. Didn’t know why he kept walking. Didn’t know why he felt the need to try and get to the building with the thumping music.

A man in a black and red suit saw him approaching but Roman didn’t see his face.

He ran inside.

Roman’s leg gave out and he felt his knee collide with the cold ground. His hand stopped his fall.

A perfect droplet of blood slid down his face and fell to the pavement.

He heard a shout of his name, but Roman couldn’t think clearly and couldn’t hear properly.

Maybe it was the blood loss, maybe Roman was dying.

He forced himself to think of his sister then. She was going to be his last memory.

***

“Hey, you’re awake.”

Roman blinked slowly as his eyes adjusted. He was in a bright room. No… Not bright. Clean. Well lit.

Smelled nice too.

Roman tried to sit up but a gentle hand forced him back down.

“Whoa, hey now. I had to dig a couple bullets out of you, sitting up’s the last of your worries.”

It took Roman a few more seconds to recognise that voice.

Junior.

 _Shit_. Why’d he go to that nightclub?

“What happened?” Roman asked, one hand (ungloved; clean of any blood) rubbing his eyes.

“One of my guys saw you down the street, doubled over and bleeding. I brought you inside, bandaged you up.” Junior said. Roman turned his head and saw the club owner sat in a chair beside the bed he was lying on. He looked tired, like he hadn’t slept much. “I’ve washed your clothes for you. Getting blood out of an Atlas coat isn’t easy, let me tell ya.”  

A thought struck Roman and his hand flew to his chest. The bandages were gone. He’d been dressed in a loose, buttoned up shirt, but he could feel his breasts underneath and felt a little sick.

Roman stared down at the sheets and felt something burn in his chest. It wasn’t shame, not quite embarrassment, something close to being so easily caught and accused over something that wasn’t a problem in the first place.

“Oh that.” Junior said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “You know, kid. I’ve got to say, using those things is only going to hurt you. You need to get something safe to do all that with. Those bandages are just going to mess up your lungs.”

“Worked this far.” Roman muttered, still refusing to look at the man who had saved his life.

“You got lucky.” Junior said.

“If I was lucky, I wouldn’t have gotten shot.” Roman shot back, his gaze snapping to meet Juniors. “How bad was it anyway?”

“A shot in the shoulder, two in the stomach, some kind of dust crystal fragmented in your thigh, so that’ll probably scar. You lost a lot of blood, but you pulled through. Must be the Atlas in you.” Junior said, a small smile at the end.

Roman let out a laugh at that; short, sharp, bitter.

“ _Hei! Can you come out here for a second?_ ”

“That’s my wife.” Junior said, heaving himself to his feet. I left you some water and a bit of food if you can stomach it.”

Roman looked at the bedside table and saw a plate with a sandwich and a glass of water waiting. His stomach growled as he reached out for the sandwich, pointedly ignoring Junior’s small smile as he left the room.

He thoughtfully ate as he took in his environment. The room itself was minimalist at best. A few bookshelves on the walls full of a motley of different genres and varieties of fiction. The sheets that surrounded him were clean and crisp but plain. The walls were a soft colour and the curtains hanging from the curtains moved gently from the soft air flow from the window. It didn’t take Roman long to realise that he was probably in a spare bedroom of some kind. He vaguely wondered if the rest of the house was like this.

Roman had finished the sandwich and downed the water before Junior came back into the room. A feeling settled in the pit of his stomach and Roman came to the unfortunate realisation that he needed to pee.

A door was cracked open near the door that Junior left through and Roman could see a sink through the gap. Well, that had been easier than he expected.

He pulled back the sheets and shuffled to the edge of the bed. His bare feet flinched away from the cold floor but Roman pressed on. There was a dull ache in his leg but Roman figured that was just from the stitches.

That thought went out the window when Roman shouted in pain and fell to the floor.

His leg was on fire. It felt worse than getting shot.

Roman blinked away tears furiously as he came to terms with the few seconds between trying to stand and the dull ache in his arms from the floor.

The door to the guest room burst open and Roman didn’t even bother looking up at who it was.

“You shouldn’t be out of bed.” Junior said, his hands pulling Roman up off the floor with a certain gentleness of someone dealing with a small, fragile child.

“I needed to piss.” Roman said, his hands clinging to Junior’s sleeve as he righted himself.

Roman barely waited until Junior’s hands had retracted before trying to take another step. His leg screamed in agony and gave out under him. Roman felt Junior’s arms grab him before he could fall to the ground again.

An arm hooked underneath his legs and Roman felt his weight being lifted. It took him a moment to realise what had happened.

“Put me down.” Roman said bluntly.

“You can’t walk.” Junior said, beginning to walk towards the bathroom.

“I swear, Junior. Put me down, right now.” Roman repeated. Junior just laughed and was extra careful as he manoeuvred Roman through the door without hitting his leg on the door frame.

Junior carefully perched Roman on the edge of a bathtub and pulled the lid of the toilet seat up.

“Do you need help from here?” Junior asked, with _far too_ much mirth in his voice.

“I am regretting ever meeting you.” Roman deadpanned, glaring at Junior and resenting ever being thankful for being rescued. Junior just laughed and stepped outside.

“I’m just outside. Call for me when you’re done.” Junior said, shutting the door behind him.

Roman could feel the heat rising on his face and silently cursed the man who, literally hours before, had saved him from bleeding out on Vale’s streets.

When he was finished, and after he had hastily splashed water on his hands, Roman called for Junior and furiously refused to meet his eye as Junior picked him up again.

“Better?” Junior asked.

“I _will_ make you regret this.” Roman threatened, only growing more annoyed as Junior laughed.

Junior was still careful as he placed Roman back on the guest bed and helped pull the sheets up so Roman didn’t have to move his leg too much.

“Get some rest, kid.” Junior said, walking towards the door. “Don’t worry, we’ll get you back on your feet. Just focus on getting better.”  

“Why are you doing all this for me?” Roman asked, hating how his voice cracked. Junior paused in the doorframe.

“Hm?” Junior asked, turning around to look at Roman in the bed.

“Why are you so insistent on helping me? I mean nothing to you, but you’re letting me stay in your home, you saved my life, you’re giving me advice. I just want to know why.” Roman said, his fists clenching the sheets nervously.

“Well, I killed your former boss, seems only fair.” Junior said, nonchalantly.

“What?”

“I got sick of him using street kids as human shields, so me and my boys had… a nice chat that went south.” Junior smiled at Roman and absently patted the doorframe. “Get some sleep, I’ll check on you in a few hours.”

The slam of the door closing seemed to echo in the room for a long time after Junior left.

Roman couldn’t really think what to do - what he _could_ do - so he did the only thing he could: he rolled over and took a nap.

***

Roman wasn’t a fool.

In his youth, he’d learned how to lower people’s defences. How to smile just right so that they’d swallow any lie he’d tell them. How to lighten his footsteps so he could sneak around the house without disturbing his father. How to dip his fingers into purses and pockets without being noticed.

In his teenage years, Roman had perfected those skills. Learned the right words to get someone’s defences so low he could twist them to his will. Became an expert in keeping the best people on his side and keeping them loyal. Made it so his hands could strip someone bare of anything of worth in only a few seconds.

So by the time, Roman was an adult, it took the best of the best to pull the wool over his eyes.

And the young girl with her hand in his pocket certainly _wasn’t_ the best of the best.

“Well, well, well. What have we got here?” Roman drawled, holding the girl’s wrist firmly enough so she couldn’t run away but not so that he hurt her. Something about the fear in the girl’s eyes (one brown, one...pink?) _almost_ disarmed Roman. Her hair looked like it was originally all brown, but now half of it was a light pink colour with some white thrown in. (The dye job looked a bit shoddy and like she’d done it herself by the lack of skill). Appearance wise, she looked like she was barely twelve, or maybe just short.

The girl tried to bolt but Roman hung on.

“Hang on there,” He said. The girl stayed in one place but kept her eyes on the ground. It was like the moment she knew she was caught she stopped resisting.

Criminal or not, Roman had seen that expression and that body language too many times in his life. Had seen it too many times in the mirror.

“Hey, kid. What’s your name?” Roman asked, his posture and voice softening slightly. The girl didn’t move, but she did look up at him. Slowly, she lifted her hand and placed her index finger over her lips like she was shushing him. But Roman understood. “Mute, huh? Alright.”

He gently let go of her wrist and reached into his pocket for a pen and a pad of paper. The girl took the offering and wrote down three, shaky letters that bordered on unintelligible.

_N E O_

“Neo.” Roman read the paper when the girl presented it to him. “So, Neo. How does a place to stay and a warm meal sound?”

The girl frowned at him before writing something again. The writing this time was stronger, more legible and pleasing.

_Seriously? Why?_

“Of course.” Roman said, leaning on his cane for a moment. “You almost have my wallet off me. That shows real potential, kid. The world cause always use a few more pickpockets.” He smiled at her and it turned genuine when Neo smiled back gently. She blinked and Roman saw the colours of her iris’ switch.

Oh… So she had a semblance. That made things interesting.

 

“So, Neo. How old are you?” Roman asked, tilting his head back slightly.

They sat on the floor in Roman’s small city apartment. Two empty plates rested on the low table between them and Roman watched the young girl curiously.

He’d let her use his shower while he’d cooked them some food. It was almost strange: Roman had lived alone for so long that the sound of the shower while he was in the kitchen took a little getting used to.

Now she sat with her hair still slightly wet, wearing one of Roman’s spare shirts and a pair of his old pants that were too small for him now. He’d offered her the fresh clothes when he realised just how dirtied her own were. A blanket was strewn around her shoulders and she sat with her legs crossed, looking content and full-bellied.  

She had the pad of paper still and wrote her sentences on it, passing them to Roman when she was done.

 _15_. _I just look younger_.

“Wanna swap sob stories? Your tragic past for mine?” Roman asked, taking a sip from a tumbler of some cheap alcohol he’d palmed off Junior a while ago.

Neo started writing something and Roman waited patiently. He didn’t expect to get the full story. He knew better than that to expect the whole truth. She held out the paper and Roman reached forwards to take it from her.

_Parents weren’t around much when I was a kid. My aunt and uncle raised me until they died last year. No one could find my parents and I didn’t care if they found me or not. So I’ve been living on the streets until you found me._

Neo held out another piece of paper and Roman read it quickly.

_So what’s your sob story?_

“Oh, you know. My mother died in childbirth with my sister, my father couldn’t handle it. Threw himself into his work, didn’t deal with grief well. I ran away as a teenager and slowly rose through the ranks of criminal scum until I got where I am now.” Roman said, shrugging as he spoke. The past had long since stopped hurting.

_What about your sister? Did she stay?_

Neo’s note rested on the table as Roman read it.

“I couldn’t drag my sister with me when I ran away. I couldn’t have taken care of her properly. A year or so after I ran away, she disappeared. A few months after that, police found her body.” Roman said. No matter how much time passed, the memory of his little sister’s bright red hair and silly pink bow was enough to tear at his heart.

_What was she like?_

Roman didn’t answer her right away. He slowly unbuttoned his jacket a little and reached in. He made it look like he was reaching into an inside pocket, but in reality his fingers found the top edge of the binder he wore and pulled out a crumpled photograph. He held it out and Neo carefully took it in her hands.

The photo was old and the last remaining tie Roman had with his birth family. In the photo, he was stood in front of an old tree in some park with his sister perched on his hip. She had the ribbon tied in her hair and a toothy smile on her face.

Neo looked at the photo curiously. Roman took a drink while she did so and tried desperately not to think of the last time he saw his sister.

 _You look so different_.

Neo passed back the photo with a note and Roman half-smiled at that.

“Well a lot can change, Neo.” Roman said, dodging the implication. He knew perfectly well what he looked like that young. Neo wrote another note as Roman tucked the picture back into his binder.

 _Where was that picture taken? It doesn’t look like Vale_.

“Atlas, actually.” Roman said, leaning back slightly.

 _That explains the jacket_.

“It suits me, what can I say?” Roman said. Neo smiled at that and Roman felt an old protective streak suddenly flare up after over half a decade of inactivity.

No matter what, he was going to protect this girl. Train her up with a weapon of some kind.

 _Why do you have a cane? Do you need it or is it part of your look?_  

Roman read the note and chuckled a little.

“Got into a gunfight a good few years ago. A shot fragmented in my leg and ruined the muscle. It’s pretty much healed up now, but sometimes I need Melodic Cudgel.” Roman admitted. “Best to keep it with me since it also shoots explosives.”

Neo’s eyes lit up at that and Roman suddenly had no doubts about Neo fitting into a life of crime.

***

“Well, hello, _gorgeous_.” Roman watched the woman walk up to his desk with a strange look on his face. “What can I do for you?” Roman asked, sitting back in his chair and lifting his feet on his desk as if this woman in front of him and the two teenagers _hadn’t_ just broken into his hideout. Neo sat perched on his desk as well, looking at the intruders with owlish eyes, curious.

“I wanted to talk,” The woman said, standing rigidly, but Roman had no doubts about the woman’s ability to kill him where he stood. “Leave us.” She said, barely turning her head to address the boy and girl behind her.

“But-” The girl with emerald green hair said, stopping herself before she could say anything more. Even though he didn’t even know the girl’s name, he could spot all the signs of a crush. Poor girl. She didn’t stand a chance.

The boy only glanced at him and Neo before following the girl out.

The woman looked at Neo and back to Roman, a question in her silence.

“She stays.” Roman said simply. “Now what was this about?”

“I was surprised to know that you’d be here, Roman Torchwick.” The woman said simply, her hands behind her back in a way that felt like a parody of the Atlas stance Roman knew _far_ too well. “I feel sorry for your father. Losing both daughters within a year of each other. Well, a daughter and a son, I suppose.”

Roman felt Cinder’s eyes drag over his appearance and frowned. No one knew about that. (Well, only one other person knew about that but only because they were the one to path Roman up after a particularly bad gunfight - and it wasn’t like they’d ever tell.)

He felt Neo’s surprised glance and furiously ignored it.

“Don’t tell me you came all this way _just_ to talk about my family.” Roman drawled, pushing the brim of his hat just a little bit higher.

“Not just family.” The woman promised. “I wanted to procure an arrangement.”

“Oh?” Roman was intrigued. He sat up fully, pulling his feet off the desk. Even Neo seemed interested.

“I need information. And I heard you were the one to talk to.” The woman said, her eyes vibrant and slightly disconcerting. (Coming from the man who’s closest confidant regularly changed eye colour to freak people out).

“Sorry, darling, I don’t seem to remember catching your name.” Roman said, leaning forwards on his desk slightly. The woman seemed amused by this.

“Cinder.”

“Ah, lovely name. Suit’s you, actually. Now, say I _were_ to help you. What would be in it for me and Neo here?” Roman asked, his familiar charm and drawl coming back. The woman - _Cinder_ \- gave him a small smile.

“You would receive my protection in exchange for helping me. Along with a cut of anything procured at my request.” Cinder said, her voice cold and concise.

“Oh _really_.” Roman drawled. “And why would we need your protection?”

“We?”

“You really think that I would leave my business partner out of this?” Roman said, nodding towards Neo. She sat proudly with her parasol across her lap. The Atlas-like outfit she wore was reminiscent of his and Roman kind of liked it: they looked like a team.

“Well, I’m looking for something that money can’t buy and very few people know about.” Cinder said slowly.

“Oh what is it, the suspense is _killing_ me. Jewels? Paintings?”

“Power. That’s all you need to know.”

“ _Ho ho ho_.” Roman leaned back in his chair, producing a cigar from nowhere and lighting it easily. “ _Now_ I’m interested.”

“Well, you can show how interested you are by helping me.” Cinder said, lifting her head in a way that was almost a threat.

“Depends what it is, doll.” Roman blew out a smoke ring and let it float up gently.

“Dust. I want all the dust in the region. I don’t care who it comes from; I just want every dust shop in Vale to be empty.” Cinder instructed.

“Seems easy enough.” Roman took another drag of his cigar and watched as Cinder’s face barely twitched in annoyance.

“You’ll need more people than your... Business partner.” Cinder said. “I have an agreement with the White Fang-”

“That won’t be necessary.” Roman interrupted. “I have friends who can help out in that department. But if you want me to work with those _kids_ of yours, I’m afraid that’s out the question.”

Cinder’s smile was tight and Roman briefly wondered if he’s made a mistake.

“If I need you to work with Emerald and Mercury, then you will work with Emerald and Mercury. Don’t forget who approached who.” Cinder said.

“I just got a shiver down my spine.” Roman said, stubbing out the half-finished cigar into an ashtray that sat on the desk. “There’s nothing I like more than a woman in charge.” He smiled at Cinder in his charming way that still had the ability to make grown adults melt into enough of a blushing mess for Neo to quickly swipe their wallet.

Cinder’s expression softened just the smallest amount and Roman felt pride bloom in his chest. He could practically sense Neo’s own small smile as he extended his gloved hand towards Cinder.

“You know, Cinder. I think this is going to be the start of a long and prosperous partnership.” Roman said.

Cinder slowly and deliberately reached forwards and shook Roman’s hand, keeping their hands there for just a second too long. Roman couldn’t help notice how warm her hands were.

“I look forwards to hearing from you, Roman.” Cinder said, turning on her heel and leaving.

Roman looked at Neo when they were alone and Neo looked back. Her hands nervously played with the parasol and Roman could understand. She was still so young and green compared to him. She still tripped up and miscalculated and got cocky sometimes. But hey, where was the fun in _not_ being cocky? And it wasn’t like a couple dust heists were going to kill them.

  
That would come much later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now it's over :D 
> 
> Thank you to everyone that read or left a kudos or a comment <3

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [private-doughnut](http://private-doughnut.tumblr.com/) on tumblr if you want to talk RWBY headcanons (which I am always down for fyi)


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